


Sum X Of X Our X Parts

by Grapedelirium



Category: Hunter X Hunter, Neon Genesis Evangelion
Genre: Angst, Assassin Killua Zoldyck, Child Neglect, Drug Use, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Internalized Homophobia, Killugon - Freeform, M/M, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Slow Burn, Underage Drinking, evangelion canon deviation, hunter x hunter AU evangelion, sloppy biscuit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:42:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29977557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grapedelirium/pseuds/Grapedelirium
Summary: Ging Freecs is the eccentric founder of the experimental NERV program founded to eliminate the threat angels pose to mankind after the second impact. Gon freecs, Killua Zoldyck, and Kurapika Kurta are the pilots of the bioweapon Evangelions, coming of age in face of armagaddeon.
Relationships: Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck, Kurapika/Leorio Paladiknight
Kudos: 8





	1. Violet X Gaze

It’s hotter than whale island. The air hangs thick and eerie quiet, with the exception of the chirp of cicadas in the dense greenery behind the far end of the train platform, it’s a ghost town. The payphone sings it’s busy signal, after the 6th encore Gon concedes and hangs it up, crouching beside his luggage at the edge of the platform and hugging his knees close to his chest, preparing to make a new plan. He was here wasn’t he? He held up his end just fine, he was just supposed to show up, call the number (one time), and dedicate his life to whatever ging had laid out for him. He hadn’t expected to come up with any ideas of his own, he was prepared to just obey. 

Head hanging between his knees he carefully unfolded the only photographic proof he had any business here at all, Biscuit Krueger 965 888 7020, squiggly cursive, I’s dotted with hearts, a 20 something blonde with low pigtails in a pink sundress winks up at him. Why won’t you answer me? Is this a trick? A test? Did Ging set me up? Would Ging set me up? He sees the tears splash against the concrete before he feels them, sun beating down against his neck. He doesn’t want to cry right now, if this is a test crying is not an option, at least not a good one. 

The cicadas go quiet just before the squeal of rubber on asphalt disrupts Gon’s planning process, a deep cherry red sports car peels around the corner of his peripheral vision and leaves a cloud of dust it’s in wake, parking abruptly on the dirt road Gon’s back faces. He stands up and wipes his face on his sleeve before he turns around. She’s wearing a lab coat, red slacks, sunglasses and a single ponytail, leaning coolly against the hood, Biscuit Krueger, 965 888 7020. He holds up the photograph just to be sure, she’s prettier in person. He holds up his hand timidly, she grins.

...

The loud humming engine gives him a good excuse not to talk, Gon has never been in a car like this, never this expensive or fast or red. Biscuit watches him watch out his window, never compromising her speed. Buildings made of lots of glass and metal and other shiny things zip past before he has a good chance to gawk. 

“Where are all the people?” He asks before he decides not to, the city was just as dead as the train station. Biscuit returns her attention to the road, apparently satisfied now that she knows he can talk.

“Shelters, you couldn’t hear the sirens from there?”

Gon shakes his head, he hadn’t heard anything but cicadas and tires.

“Does that mean there’s one here.. now?”

“Not quite here, it’s mostly a precaution for civilians. This is a rural type, it won’t migrate to the city, I think. You can see when we get to headquarters.”

The conversation ends with the unspoken promise of more questions and answers at “headquarters.” It’s strange, not being included as a civilian. Gon closes his eyes and lets the hot wind hit his face, peeking every so often to make sure no monsters have snuck up on them.

....

Headquarters is just as overwhelming as he thought. Biscuit moves with confidence and grace receiving updates and barking orders without slowing down through crowded high ceiling industrial hallways and Gon shuffles closely behind her, doing his best to stay out of everyone's way. A few people whisper and stare in their downtime, he wonders what they know about him that he doesn’t, mostly he just tries to keep up.

Everyone is alert and busy, speaking posthaste and conservatively about things he doesn’t understand. He catches phrases here and there, synchronization… prog knife…...AT fields. Trying to understand makes his head spin, he just keeps his gaze down. He doesn’t notice when Biscuit stops moving for the first time since they met, and walks into her back. She doesn’t seem to notice him either, arms crossed assertively over her chest, rosey eyes hardened and fixed on the projections of lines of data and pictures on the far wall of the room. Their destination turned out to be what looks like the mission control room, just like the hallways scientists are moving and speaking with urgency around long rows of computers and stacks of paper.

Biscuit turns to face him, the giddy confidence in her face eases some of his anxiety, but he can’t help but feel completely out of his depth. What could Ging possibly need him for here. He isn’t completely worthless, he knows how to do the things he’s done his whole life; he can survive and be quiet at the right times and sometimes even be helpful, up until now that’s been enough, but here he is and it feels like everyone around him is speaking a different language. He doesn’t know how to save everyone, if that's what they whisper about. Just the thought feels vain, but if Ging expected him to show up and be special or have some kind of birthright talent, he’s travelled a long way to disappoint.

“Gon”

He looks up timidly, he knows what he feels is all over his face

“I want you to see something”

Without waiting around for a response she turns to one of the unmanned computers, swipes a keycard and quickly types some commands, two windows of live footage take center stage on the the wall projection, different perspectives of the same scene in a rolling countryside plain, they’re both focused on something gon doesn’t quite understand, it isn’t exactly a monster, it’s very tall and gangly, taller than the glass and metal buildings, 3, no, 4 arms, pale and sharp. This is an angel, jeez. Gon can’t help but feel amazed, it dawns on him he doesn’t know the world he lives in very well at all. Then it dawns on him that the cameras aren’t stationary, they begin to charge from different angles advancing on the creature, the angel lets out what can only be described as a roar and prepares to sink it’s claws and teeth into camera 02, as it dodges the perspective shifts and the source of camera 00 comes into frame.

“These are our Evangelion units”

Scratch that, he knows absolutely nothing of this world, Gon can’t tear his eyes away. It’s a pale purple humanoid machine, at least 80 meters tall. It looks heavily armored and intimidating but nothing about it’s movements are robotic or clunky, they way the robot dodges and side steps and lunges around the angel, it looks just like they’re dancing.

“Killua, it’s core is in it’s sternum, use the opening when it’s preparing to lunge to deploy your prog knife” “Roger” Gon peeks back into his surroundings to see Biscuit talking into a headset he didn’t notice her put on

“Gon I want you to pay attention to how unit 00 ends this.”

Her expression slips into something slightly more grave, but the exhilarated glimmer in her eye doesn’t budge. He nods once and returns his attention to the screen, watching through unit 02’s perspective as the violet robot baits the angel to attack a faux opening and in one smooth movement plunges a giant blade deep into its chest, splitting it up the middle and throwing it’s corpse to the ground. The head and torso of the robot are splattered in blood. Gon just continues to stare not knowing what else to do, Biscuit isn’t impressed with this reaction, not participating in the collective ease of tension throughout the room.

Her patience runs thin quickly “What are you thinking about?” She stares at him intensely forcing his attention away from the projection.

“What I could be possibly be doing here” Gon answers honestly, dazed and unfiltered

Biscuit fails to stifle a smirk, “Man are you dense”

…

It takes 25 minutes for the Evangelions to return to headquarters. They waited in the Eva storage lockers after a brief and vague tour of everywhere he was allowed to go and everywhere he should stay far away from, Biscuit finally ran out of ways to stall and had to tell him what was going on, Gon was more confused than ever. 

“Why would I be a pilot? I know absolutely nothing about any of this stuff. It’s like I’ve just arrived on another planet and you’re asking me to be an ambassador” They sit criss cross on a balcony platform overlooking the massive empty space the Evas would return to. “Besides it seems like you guys have it handled” Gon mumbles the last bit, remembering the way the giant violet robot looked splattered in blood, he holds his elbows and wills away a shiver.

Biscuit sighs, “You don’t have to know about anything, it isn’t like that, it’s about who you are. It’s like compatibility.” Checking her nails absentmindedly Biscuit furrows her brow and thinks for a minute before elaborating.

“Your father didn’t choose you for this because you’re his son, or because he thought he could influence your decision, there was never a choice between you and anyone to begin with. Your Eva was made for you, no one else will be able to pilot it.”

Gon doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know what he expected, not this. “Why didn’t he ask me if I would even do it before he went through all the trouble of building it for me.”

He can feel Biscuit’s hesitation, he doesn’t get an answer. The echoing sound of released pressure draws their attention to the ceiling, two massive hatches slowly retract and reveal twin descending platforms, each carrying a massive EVA burden; one violet and bloodied, now dry and cracked with movement, the other scarlet red. Slowly they’re locked in place in their charging stations, two more moving platforms extend from their balcony, creating a metal U connecting him and Biscuit to the Evangelions. An indent in their chest plates simultaneously unlock upon contact with the U.

The dramatic way the hatches open reminds Gon of the Discovery spaceship launch he watched on television as a little kid, whatever's happening in front of him would make much more sense in slow motion. He sees the violet EVA pilot first, once again he doesn’t know what he expected but he is still surprised, he wonders when he’ll stop being surprised.

He’s his age, about, but he’s never seen anyone like him. Powder white hair crowns his lowered head in untamed wisps, bouncing and unruly even in the distance, he walks light and fluidly, the contortion of the hatch causes delicate red chips to snow behind him. Gon glaces to the right, The second pilot is a little older, but not much. Ash blonde hair lies heavy over his eyes, he’s shorter and more compact but clearly more mature in his posture. They both wear sleek fitted latex suits colored to match their respective monsters. Gon looks down at himself, suddenly conscious of his humble islander clothes. 

As they approach Gon sinks lower and lower into himself, less eager to stare with them looking back at him, Biscuit holds his shoulder affirmatively. “Killua, Kurapika, good work out there.”

The violet robot pilot called Killua grins, “zat vas nothing” he speaks in a heavy icy accent Gon does not recognize.

Gon looks up bashfully through his eyelashes, they’re both taller than him, Kurapika is maybe 5”11 with a serious piercing glare, Killua definitely surpassing 6 foot with a thin willowy frame hugged tightly by his uniform, this close Gon can see flecks of crimson dusting his white mane, his gaze falters when he catches his eye, his stare is lighter than Kurapika’s, but much more scrutinizing.

“Boys this is Gon Freecs, he’s our third child”

“Freecs?” Kurapika cocks an eyebrow at him

“That’s right.” Gon spits back, forgetting to be shy for a moment. He regrets it, they must think he’s defending his father, they probably think he asked for this.

If his tone offended Kurapika he shows no signs of it, he grins, eyes glinting much like Biscuit’s “Fiery”

Biscuit squeezes his shoulder, he hears her smile “Gon hasn’t actually committed to pilot yet, would you boys be interested in a celebratory dinner on me?”

Gon understands now, they’re supposed to convince him. He sees they understand too, he also sees Killua’s curiosity compound. Gon wishes he’d look away, only people from the city have looked at him like this and he hasn’t learned how to handle it yet, he was never small back home, his skin was never the darkest in the room, everyone was brazen and honest and only used coded words in front of little kids. no one young had white hair. 

…

Killua and Kurapika are very different kinds of strange, it’s easier to see up close in the back room of the ramen house. Gon ordered the cheapest bowl on the menu, not having done anything to earn a celebratory meal, Kurapika was smothering his sashimi in wasabi paste, Killua’s steak was almost rarer than the fish. Biscuit ordered 2 bottles of high end sake she sneakily distributed to their cups, Gon had only had the occasional swig of cheap shochu in his aunt’s bar, but he did his best to match the older boys' pace. After his third refill he felt the heat from his face leak back into his head and he didn’t mind it, he felt relaxed for the first time in this alien place.

With Biscuit’s fuel soon they were laughing and talking over each other and stumbling on their words, he could feel Killua and Kurapika’s bond, they weren’t natural companions but they were certainly comrades. In the easy haze of the room the pressure of their situation was numb if not completely null, they almost weren’t there to convince him to dedicate his life to fight.

“I hate zee looks on their faces when ve come back, praise and everything iz cool I guess, but I feel like an army vet vith no legs the way zey tense up. I can’t fight if I think of myself as a lame old imperial fart. I’m a samurai, I am cool, zey can save ze formality for my funeral.” Killua slams his empty glass down and crosses his arms behind his head, letting his eyelids flutter shut, with every drink his accent gets heavier. The deep alcoholic blush reaches beneath his shirt collar contrasting heavy against his cool translucent skin, Gon only looks for a few seconds at a time.

“You’re a child” Kurapika dismisses him coldly. Killua says something outrageous, Kurapika pokes fun, Gon starts to understand their pattern a little better. 

“Eh? Just as independent as vu old timer, don’t let 2 years get to your head.” Killua’s brow furrows, his eyes don’t open, Gon gets to look at him a little longer this time. 

“I don’t like how everyone looks at me here” Gon declares, he’s loud enough but his confidence still lags behind and he drops his gaze to the table.

Killua opens one eye, “How do we look at you Gon?” Biscuit purrs, now leaning most of her torso over the table and supporting her head in her hands.

Gon blushes and is grateful the sake excuses him “I dunno, I guess I’m not used to all this attention. On Whale Island I know everything about everything ... here I don’t know anything. I feel like a naive tourist, it’s embarrassing.” 

“We’re all tourists here, if you can call it that. I was born on an American military base in Antarctica, Krueger is Dutch, Killua’s German ....clearly.” Kurapika chuckles, pouring himself more wine. Gon nods and pretends this was clear to him too. He doesn’t mind being included in the “we.” It was clever to take him somewhere normal and get him drunk, he wonders briefly if NERV was involved in this plan.

“Kruegar is my father!” Biscuit huffs, “I am Biscuit, or Bisky, or Bisky chan. You boys make me feel like some old hag.”

“Acting like a teenager von’t turn back your clock, grandma” Killua snorts in his meanspirted way

“EH??” Biscuit slams her fist down on the table, Killua and Kurapika laugh, they bicker and poke fun and Gon wants to be a part of it, he thinks he likes these people. He wants to understand, he isn’t sure if he does, or if that’s something he’s even capable of. He looks at the floor while they argue, until he looks up again, and catches Killuas scrutinizing electric blue gaze. This time neither of them look away, Gon doesn’t understand his expression, the cool and witty things that come from his mouth don’t make sense now, Killua looks innocent, and curious. He doesn’t look like he kills angels for a living, he killed one earlier that day, now he has A1 smeared in the corner of his mouth and he peers back at Gon like he’s the confusing one.

…

Kurapika lives in NERV housing adjacent to headquarters, Killua lives in the same apartment complex as Biscuit. When 4 becomes 3 the conversation dies down, Gon forfeits shotgun to Killua and lays down in the backseat, trying to hush his pounding head and focusing on the streetlights rushing past.

Gon can’t tell if the apartments are nice, but he likes them. Not enough people lived on his island for mass housing like this, he notes the swimming pool in the courtyard for later reference, he wonders how much free time he’ll have. He doesn’t remember when he decided to stay, like Biscuit said he guesses there wasn’t really a choice to be made in the first place, this is what he is meant to do, maybe what he was born to do. Either way saying no had never come easy to him, he arrived prepared not to resist, he already knew he would obey Ging. His polite upbringing didn’t prepare him to be able to refuse a multi million dollar fighting robot only he can operate, and he knows saying no would disappoint these people he drank with and laughed with. Maybe it was a ploy to win him over, in fact it probably was. He just can’t bring himself to care too much about being manipulated by people he likes.

“Goodnight Killuuuuaaa!”

“Night bizcuit, zee ya Gon.” Killua slurs stumbling the opposite way down the hall to the north wing

“See you” Gon calls in a small voice only Biscuit hears, she smiles and slings her arm around his shoulders, he suspects for balance. At some point she took off her high heels, Gon now has an inch or two on her at 5’9, he relishes in it secretly. He didn’t expect to find only large intimidating foreigners in Tokyo, he felt small all day.

Biscuit fumbles for a minute with her keys before sheepishly handing them off to Gon, he unlocks her apartment on his second try, dragging his chaperone and his suitcase behind him. 

“I cleared out my storage room so you can have some privacy,” biscuit hiccuped, waving her hand vaguely to a door on the far wall. She tossed her shoes and jacket aside before immediately collapsing on the couch, letting loose a long sigh of relief. She, like everything else, was just so different from he thought she’d be. 

Gon nodded gratefully, lingering a second to take in the space. muted homey furniture totally littered in cans of asaki and coffee cups, overflowing ashtrays, dirty dishes stacked in the sink, lacy silky women's clothing tossed over the sparse empty surfaces. He peeked into the storage room she referenced, it was small and plain with just a cot, dresser and desk but as promised it was clean, Gon was grateful. He discarded his suitcase in the corner, still too blurred around his edges to be bothered to unpack.

He peaked his head back out to ask about the washroom, but in his short absence Biscuit had fallen asleep fully clothed, slumped over on the couch, lit cigarette in hand. A black cat he hadn’t noticed before kneading affectionately at her thigh. He smiled, trying not to trip over the clutter on his way to relocate the cigarette safely between his lips and cover his ditsy guardian in a blanket to the best of his ability.

It was his 16th birthday last week, the next day he received a cryptic letter from his father and a one way plane ticket to tokyo. He’d never left his small island in Indonesia, besides to go to other small neighboring islands. He leans over Biscuit’s balcony that he isn’t ready to think of as his own yet, he takes a drag and watches the embers float down and thinks about the angels blood dusting Killua's hair, and he thinks about Killua and where his apartment is and whether he’s asleep and if not what he’s doing. He wonders if all Germans have white hair and probing blue eyes, he wonders if all of the Dutch are messy and giddy and get drunk with teenagers. He wonders if all Americans think they’re older than they really are. He doesn’t know, he knows he shouldn’t ask because people don’t ask things like that here. Everyone just knows already.

So maybe this is when he decides to stay, thinking about all the things he’s seen before he's even unpacked. This is an alien world where people do and say things that don’t match their faces, and all at once it’s very simple too because there is just good and bad, EVAs and angels, This was made for you and there has never been anyone else.


	2. Killua X Alluka

This feels normal, but not easy, school has never been a natural habitat for Gon. Education would stay pushed to the back burner for now, from where he stood now on top of all the heavy tall responsibility he remembered agreeing to behind yesterday’s sake, this was very small, unimportant. Much bigger fish to fry, no room for anxiety. He tightens his tie and picks lint off his sweater anyways.

Looking in the mirror he wishes for the first time his hair wasn’t so thick and long and feral, coarse jet black threads ghost his collarbones. Maybe if his skin was lighter, less rough and calloused, he brings a finger to touch a scar cutting the symmetry of his upper lip and frowns. Biscuit sits on the edge of the tub brushing her cornsilk hair with one hand and fidgeting with the radio with the other.

“Do I look like the other kids here?” He asks shyly

“You look very handsome” Biscuit smiles firmly, Gon knows this means no.

He meets his eyes in the mirror, giving himself one more second of insecurity then hardens his expression into something like determination, this isn’t going to sting, it won’t hurt him, this is normal. It’s okay.

“It doesn’t matter how you look if you plan to stand there all day, it’s rude to keep Killua waiting! Anyways I need my mirror back.” Biscuit shoves him out of the bathroom, he is grateful for the momentum.

“Yes ma’am” He slings his bag across his chest and takes one step at a time and tries to stop thinking about things that could go wrong

“Gon?”

He turns in the doorway, she leans out of the bathroom and looks at him so softly, Gon misses his aunt so very much.

“Good luck”

Gon nods and smiles to let her know he will be okay, everyone has better things to worry about.

Killua is at the bottom of the balcony stairwell, he was assigned to help him get to school. Gon isn’t sure this counts as having a friend, he doesn’t return his nervous smile. They size each other up in silence for a moment.

“Oh Killua, your tie” 

Killua stares in disbelief but doesn’t flinch when Gon reaches out, closing the space between them to tighten the taller boy’s necktie without hesitation, when their eyes meet he defrosts, remembering to be irritated. Gon pulls his arms behind his back and smiles apologetically, remembering that touch works differently here.

“I like it that vay” Killua scoffs, tugging it loose again and turning away. Gon waits for him to begin walking to quietly unfix his own.

…

The subway is very complicated, Killua isn’t easy to keep up with. He never let Gon get too far behind though, when he got sidetracked by a map or a street performer or a misunderstanding with the gate card reader Killua would linger ahead and pretend to be preoccupied with his shoe laces or his cell phone, Gon was grateful. 

He thinks Killua is very cool, maybe just walking next to him will make school run smoother, though Killua is a senior and Gon is a junior, he doesn’t want to bother him any more than he has to, so after he catches up he still lags a few feet behind. In the crowded subway tunnels no one looks like him, but no one looks like Killua either. A group of passing primary school girls stare over their shoulders and whisper in his wake, bumping into gon in the process. He can’t blame them.

...

“Killua?”

“Hm?”

They sit next to each other in the subway car, shoulders and knees knocking on turns and bumps, Killua holds a book open on his lap but hasn’t turned a page in 15 minutes, so Gon thinks it’s okay to ask.

“Why is your hair white?”

Killua doesn’t expect this, he stares blankly at Gon

“Vhat do you mean?”

“I’m sorry if that’s rude, I’ve just never seen it before.”

Killua doesn’t know how to be cool in a situation like this, he doesn’t know a lot of innocent people. “How old are you Gon?”

“I turned 16 a week and a half ago, how old are you?”

“I’m 17”

“Oh, you’re very tall”

Killua smirks, “I’m not sure vhy, my mother haz black hair, my dad, blonde. I’ve always looked like zis”

“Do they talk like you?”

Killua frowns and looks down at his feet, this probably wasn’t a good question, gon wants to say he’s sorry but doesn’t get a chance

“You should not ask people questions like that here, it does not bover me but it vill get you in trouble.” 

Gon notices the strain in his voice as he fights his accent, his heart sinks.

“I’m sorry I ask stupid questions, I don’t understand this place very well at all.”

Killua sighs, his cold eyes can’t help but soften in Gon’s honest curiosity, he throws him a bone.

“I don’t understand how to pronounce, ‘double yew,’ ve are kind of ze same.

Gon beams

…

School is nothing like he expected, his classes are long and complicated, but he learned Japanese in primary so he can at least keep up with the other kids. He feels a little guilty to have doubted them, they are much nicer than the kids from home. He doesn't blend in very well, but no one seems to mind, they seem interested in him. No one really gets angry at his questions, though sometimes they laugh, at least he’s making everyone happy. Before the bell they all buzz around him leaning into the orbit of his desk in the back of the classroom, they ask how long he’s grown his hair, or if he’d driven a car before, he told him he didn’t remember, and only when his aunt had a few glasses of wine. They all thought this was very funny, he wasn’t sure why but he scratched the back of his neck and laughed along with them.

Then a boy with a square face and bushy eyebrows couldn’t hold his tongue any longer, “You’re an EVA pilot aren’t you?” The rest of them get quiet. Gon is surprised, he never mentioned anything about it, but he has no reason not to, so he tells the truth. “Yeah, how’d you know?” 

His question is drowned out in the wave of excitement, his presence is forgotten for the second they all turn to each other and whisper, but they’re pulled back into his orbit as they think up new questions. Of all the things he was afraid to feel here, overwhelmed hadn’t crossed his mind, for the first time ever he is relieved when a teacher enters and establishes order. 

As the crowd disperses his eyes land on the only student already sitting where they were supposed to, a girl who had not told him her name or asked him any questions in the corner opposite him. A book lies open on her desk but she stares absently out the window, fine black hair veiling her expression.

For probably no reason at all, she sheepishly turns her head and their eyes meet. 

Killua?

…

“Alluka” 

She is quiet and meek, but all the same takes Gon’s outstretched hand gently and they shake.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Gon.” He caught up with her a few halls opposite the direction of his next class, for someone so timid and frail, she moves very quickly. A moment goes by before they speak, he didn’t think far ahead enough to how he’d phrase this question, and if he isn’t right this could be embarrassing.

She beats him to it, “You work with Killua” it isn’t a question, he grins. She has an accent too, subtler, but too similar to be a coincidence.

“Yes, we work together. You’re his sister aren’t you?”

“Mhm,” she returns the smile.

“can I walk you to class?”

“Actually I vas headed somewhere else, you could come, if you want.”

…

Alluka was more Gon’s speed, they sat at the edge of the science department roof, legs dangling in space. She didn’t ask him any questions he wouldn’t know how to answer about being a pilot, he tried not to ask any questions that might offend her. He doubted she’d care anyway, he could tell they were similar like that, but it was good practice. She wasn’t overly nice in the same way the other kids were, but she felt much more honest, she was very cool like Killua but less stoic, and more easy going now that she was relaxed.

“Your Aunt really let you stay out for a whole night in the forest?”

“Yeah, she’s the greatest. I know the woods back home better than anywhere.”

“I’ve never been camping, everyone treats me like I’m made of glass.”

“I’m sorry, I know you could do it.”

Alluka smiles appreciatively, but her voice gets small. “Do you miss her?”

“Who? My aunt?”

“Mhm”

“Yeah, more than anything.”

They’re quiet for a minute, Alluka digs through papers in her book bag

“Do you have a light?” When Gon looks back a cigarette hangs from her mouth, he frowns, she’s in his grade but her face is still round with baby fat, and she has the same big innocent eyes as Killua.

“You shouldn’t smoke, it isn’t good for you.”

She laughs from her belly “I’m German, do you or don’t you?” Gon doesn’t understand this explanation, he guesses it’s a stereotype.

But he does, and he can’t deny her.

“I knew it, I can smell it on you.” 

“Yeah well, where I’m from it makes you an adult”

“Where i'm from it just makes you look cool.”

They smoke together in a comfortable silence. Gon didn’t realize how much he missed this kind of companionship, the natural kind, no fighting robots brought them here, at least not directly.

“Do you miss your parents?”

“No.” She answers quickly and definitively, he looks over at her but she keeps on staring out into space. 

He really knows he shouldn’t this time, but sometimes he just can’t help himself, “Why not?”

“I know they don’t miss me” she shrugs, like this is no big deal.

“I figure my dad probably didn’t miss me before he needed me, I dunno, I guess I hadn’t thought about it”

“Did you miss him?”

“I’m not sure, I think I must have, since I’m here.”

She only tightens her lips and nods in response.

“Say, don’t you live with Killua? Why didn’t you come to school with us?”

Before she can react, summoned by Gon’s attention, Killua materializes below them in the empty courtyard, sulking out of a side door marked as an emergency exit. He doesn’t seem to notice them as he stares down at his sneakers moving aimlessly in the general direction of away, hands deep in his pockets and MP3 wires dangling out of his snowy mop of hair. About 30 feet from him a group of boys cut diagonally across the grass set to intercept his path, Killua doesn’t seem to notice them either, he keeps his head down.

“Are they his friends?”

Alluka just watches quietly, he doesn’t understand her expression.

When they cross paths the biggest of them stops and blocks Killua’s way, he’s broader and bulkier, but still only comes up to Killua’s chin, the others stand behind him. The leader speaks to him, they can’t hear at the distance but it looks like a question, Killua doesn’t respond, he just looks down at him and keeps his hands in his pockets. His face gives nothing away.

The boy’s lips move the same way with less composure, Killua doesn’t budge. When it becomes obvious he isn’t going to get what he came for, he grabs Killua by his sweater and throws him to the ground, he lands flat on his back with his hands still in his pockets. The group of boys keep moving on their axis like nothing happened, Killua stays down.

Gon doesn’t know what he’s seeing, it’s all very unfamiliar. No one acts like this, he’s seen plenty of fights but that was not one of them. He looks back to Alluka in his struggle to understand but only finds the same empty resignation he sees in Killua on the ground. Despite this she can't cover the angry heat falling off her silhouette in choppy waves, Gon’s intuition tells him this feeling isn’t anything new to her. 

“Shouldn’t we go see if he’s okay?” Gon reaches desperately to get through to her.

Alluka hisses and jerks suddenly out of her trance, dropping the burned out cigarette butt over the edge and cradling her seared fingertips to her chest, “gottverdammt!” Gon fusses over her. On the pavement below them embers jump and burn out. Killua, now sitting up, looks over and up catching Gon’s panicked movement, their eyes lock.

And the weirdest part of all, Killua chooses this moment to be angry.

…

The whole walk to headquarters Gon had done his best to convince Killua that he absolutely was not doing what Killua thought he had been with Alluka, but he still glared skeptically after shooing her back to class. How he felt about his sister was the strongest Gon has seen him feel about anything, Killua doesn’t mention the incident with the boys, so Gon doesn’t either. 

They change into their plug suits in silence

“You didn’t mention you had a sister.”

“I guess not.”

If Gon wasn’t immune to social cues he would feel the thick tension hanging between them and leave Killua be, but he was and he didn’t.

“Er, Killua?”

“Yeah?”

“This is too big.”

“Press ze button.”

“This one?”

The crinkle of latex echoes in Gon’s vain struggle, touching parts of his baggy uniform at random, completely lost. Killua sighs, hesitant to look across the locker room through the implied wall separating them. 

When Gon notices his movement Killua is already behind him, way too close for a changing room. On whale island things would probably be whispered about him had anyone else been in the room, Gon is surprised but unresistant to the lapse in character.

“You really veren’t trying to touch Alluka?” Killua's breath ghosts Gon’s exposed shoulder through the open back seam of his baggy suit

“I really wasn't, I would never do that, I swear.” Gon peers over his shoulder to look him in the eye.

They look at each other for a second too long before red hot embarrassment leaks into their faces, Killua reroutes his attention to zipping the back of Gon’s suit over his scarred bronze shoulders, the other hand pressing briefly against his sensor on his lower back, the material becomes snug. Gon studies his left arm in wonder.

“Do you know you are an idiot?” Killua mutters dryly

“Yeah” Gon shrugs bashfully, untouched by the insult. 

They walk to processing side by side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evangelion is a masterpiece, I could never rewrite it. I'll be damned if I don't try though. Lots of ideas for this, there's gonna be a bigger focus on Gon and Killua, but Kurapika, Ging, Leorio, Biscuit etc will also be explored, I know my character interpretations are going to take some liberties but still try to remain true to their natures so bear with me! Thanks for reading :)

**Author's Note:**

> Is it difficult to read Killua with a German accent? This is fic is mostly a self indulgence, I'm feeling nostalgic for when I used to write on tumblr frequently in 2016/2017 not sure how many people will be interested in this niche but if you're into in but can't stand the accent let me know and I'll tone it down, keeping in mind I was exaggerating in this chapter because of his general sloppy drunkness, and I pinky promise it's sorta relevant to his character. Thx for reading :) (P.S tags subject to change)


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